John We're Out of Milk
by Nurmengardx
Summary: Sherlock's planning something and John finds out what pretty soon.


John was sitting in his armchair, reading a newspaper when his phone buzzed. He rolled his eyes when he saw it was Sherlock.

_We need milk- SH_

'For God's sake Sherlock,' John muttered to himself.

_Get it yourself._

_Too busy- SH_

_You're the one that's out, not me._

_Too busy- SH_

_No._

…

_Please? - SH_

John rolled his eyes again. Sherlock had said please. That meant that he was up to something. _It's a bad idea. It's a bad idea. It's a bad idea. _His head told him to stop but there was something in him that always yearned to be part of Sherlock's plans in any way possible, even if it was only to get the milk. So he sighed and put down his paper.

Ten minutes later John was back in his chair and the milk was safely in the fridge, next to the jar of fingers. Sherlock burst through the door and looked around.

'Milk's in the fridge,' said John, without looking up from his paper. Sherlock surveyed the room ad tutted at the sight of the neatly stacked papers on the sofa, so he went over and swept them all onto the floor.

'Sherlock! What are you doing? Those are mine!' John exclaimed. Sherlock didn't answer, he just went into the kitchen and boiled the kettle. By now John was unfazed by Sherlock's many strange habits but what he did next totally threw John off.

'Here,' Sherlock thrust a mug in front of his face.

'What's this?' John asked, eyeing the mug suspiciously.

'It's coffee. You like coffee.' He handed him the mug and watched him expectantly. John took a sip and almost gagged.

'Sherlock-'

'Yes?'

'You forgot the coffee.'

'Oh.' Sherlock stood in front of John and fidgeted a little, irritating John enough to make him look up.

'Was there something you wanted Sherlock?' he asked. Sherlock just looked at him before he pulled him out of his chair by the front of his jumper, knocking the hot milk out of his hands.

'Sherlock what-?' he was cut off by Sherlock pressing his lips against his own. 'Oh.' The corners of Sherlock's mouth twitched and he threw John onto the sofa and crushed his lips against his again. John was utterly confused and his mind muddled even more when Sherlock started kissing his neck.

'Sh- Sherlock. What… what are you doing?'

'I'd have thought that was fairly obvious John,' he said.

'Yes but why?'

'Because you've wanted this for ages.' John blushed guiltily. 'And because… I wanted to.' John looked at him, shock clear on his face. 'Please John don't make such a big d-' this time it was John's turn to cut him off with a kiss. He pulled Sherlock's skinny frame closer and kissed him hard, his mouth tingled at the taste of Sherlock's tongue on his own.

'Sherlock Holmes you big idiot. Why didn't you say anything?' Sherlock's cheeks tinged a pale pink.

'I needed to be sure…' he looked away self-consciously. John rolled his eyes.

'Yep, definitely an idiot.' He pulled Sherlock's face back to his and kissed his nose, before gently kissing his lips. He gasped as Sherlock snaked his long fingers up his jumper and wrapped his arms around him. He buried his head in the crook of John's neck and nipped lightly, causing John to tremble where he lay. Sherlock smiled. He was glad that John liked him as much as he liked John. He then moved his hand down to John's belt buckle and pressed his palm against it, getting a long, low groan from John. He went to release the clasp when John grabbed his wrist. Sherlock looked at him questioningly.

'Mrs Hudson,' he mumbled, eyes closed.

'We could go up to my room if it would make you feel better,' Sherlock suggested. John nodded wordlessly, so Sherlock got up and pulled John by the hand to his room. John shut the door behind him and pushed Sherlock up against the wall, removing his purple shirt, screwing it up and tossing it over his shoulder, kissing his collar bone. Sherlock didn't even care that they were messing up his poster of the periodic table. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck and planted kisses all the way up his jawline before nibbling on his earlobe and running his fingers through his dark curly hair. Sherlock breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of John. He smelled faintly of vanilla, so Sherlock decided that he liked vanilla. A lot. He put his hand up John's jumper and ran his finger down his spine, sending warm shivers through his body. Sherlock then put his lips to John's ear.

'Why am I the only one not wearing a shirt?' he whispered. John smiled and Sherlock pulled his jumper over his head and held John as close to him as he could get and kissing him with such force that John had to move backwards, until he tripped and landed on the bed on his back, but Sherlock didn't seem to care, he just pressed himself onto him, exploring his mouth with his tongue. He then started to get frustrated, so he lifted John and put him on the bed properly, and kissed everywhere he could get to. John became increasingly tense and gripped the sheets around him, moaning when Sherlock kissed his belly button. It was apparently a very sensitive area. He closed his eyes to fully enjoy the sensation, and when he opened them again he saw that Sherlock had taken off his own trousers, but he found that he was ok with that. He cupped his hands around his face and gently pulled it up to meet his own. Sherlock smiled again. This was definitely the least boring thing he'd ever done. But enough was enough. He was getting bored of all the kissing and he didn't want to be bored of John. So he kissed his belly button again and pressed his palm against John's belt buckle once again, but this time John didn't stop him as he unclasped the belt and slowly slipped down his jeans. By the time they had completely come off John was shaking so badly that Sherlock had to hug him comfortingly to lessen the trembling a little. By this point John's breathing was short and shallow, so while he concentrated on controlling himself, Sherlock swiftly analysed him. He was a little larger than he had expected, but it made little difference. John still hadn't slowed his breathing and this concerned Sherlock a little.

'John, are you all right?' he asked concernedly.

'Yes Sherlock I'm… fine,' he replied breathlessly, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

'Good,' Sherlock smiled, before he started gently caressing John's enlarged manhood with a few of his fingers, causing John to spasm involuntarily. 'Sorry.'

'No it's ok,' John said, secretly liking the feeling.

'John, are you sure?' Sherlock asked, overcome by feelings of doubt, he didn't want to hurt John.

'Shut up of course I'm sure,' he replied, kissing the top of Sherlock's head. Sherlock smiled and hugged him tightly. Eager to alleviate the pressure in his own engorged member he flipped John onto his stomach and pulled him up onto all fours. He kissed John's cheek and then slipped himself carefully in, earning a gratifying cry from John, whose knuckles had gone white from holding the sheets so tightly. He started out slowly at first, one stroke at a time until John's body was used to his presence and stopped fighting him. Sherlock then started to fully enjoy himself after thrusting himself completely into John numerous times, not even caring when small grunts started escaping his mouth, it was nothing compared to the snarls and cries coming from John who had scrunched up his face. And that was when he felt it. Something was building inside him, making his small grunts louder and more frequent. Evidently John could feel it too as his breathing was heavy and his cries of pleasure were also getting louder. John was no longer aware of anything except for Sherlock inside him. He was close now. Every breath was a gasp and then there it was, the moment of greatest pleasure. He spilled himself all over the sheets at the same moment Sherlock emptied himself inside him with a strange, strangulated cry. Sherlock removed himself and sat on the end of the bed, waiting for John to recover. Eventually John moved and joined Sherlock at the end of the bed and leaned on his shoulder while they caught their breath.

'John, get off,' Sherlock said sternly.

'What?' said John, alarmed.

'Get off, I need to change the sheet.'

'Oh.' He moved off the bed, only to fall flat on his face. 'I'm ok,' he said to Sherlock, who was looking at him in concern. Sherlock quickly changed the sheets and they both climbed in, immediately cuddling each other.

'Sherlock?'

'Yes John?'

'I… I think I love you,' John whispered. _That's new_, Sherlock thought.

'Yes of course you do.' John's eyebrows rose. 'I mean um… I love you too John.' John chuckled and snuggled himself closer to Sherlock and they both fell asleep, cuddled close together.

When Mrs Hudson arrived home she saw that the house was in more of a state than usual and went running around looking for the boys, in case they'd gotten themselves into trouble. She peeked in to Sherlock's room and found them tucked up in bed together; John snuggled into Sherlock's chest, whose head was gently resting on John's. Mrs Hudson quietly closed the door and walked away.

'I told them they would only need one room,' she muttered to herself before going to make herself a cup of tea.


End file.
